


Boring

by ReaderRose



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Pre-Canon, Undertale Reset Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 14:12:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13009545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReaderRose/pseuds/ReaderRose
Summary: Flowey followed every rule. Flowey broke every rule. And then when that was done, he tried each and every combination, then a second time, then a third. Maybe one of them was the trick to make him feel something real again.





	Boring

**Author's Note:**

> I had it in my head at one point that I was going to give RPing a try, and this was a sample I wrote to try to get in character... but I was really not able to get into it so I never did anything with it. SHAME!
> 
> Worth posting though I guess.

He took the first step towards trying something new with a stumble, and then a leap. He’d never felt monster dust before! _(Only his own, for just a single moment.)_ It was exciting. Breaking the rules, embracing some sort of dumb persona he hadn’t quite worked out the first time. He couldn’t be Asriel anymore. Not like that. It didn’t feel right. Instead he was Flowey. Flowey the Flower… The Prince of… Time and Darkness?

He dropped that part real quick. It’d been lame. Not that his audience had had any time to critique him.

It was fun. A lot of fun. So he did it again. And again. And again!

And again!

And then it kind of… _stopped_ being fun. And then he did it again. And again. And again.

 

 _And again._  


Eventually he stopped. Someone begged, and he let them live, and it wasn’t as fun as the killing had been that first time, but it was new. It was different. So he played around. He experimented. Sure, killing wasn’t fun anymore when it was everyone, but what if it was half? Or a quarter? Or only one? A different one? A pair? Could he make someone else do it? Could he frame someone else for it?

He could! He could! And it still didn’t make a difference. It still wasn’t enough but he was determined. He refused to let go.

 _(Letting go was too much to ask of him. The world took his body away, the world took his soul away, the world took_ **_them_ ** _away, and then it just expected_ **_him_ ** _to_ **_give_ ** _his second life away?)_  


Not killing had always been a “rule.” So maybe the magic, the trick, was in the rules, and breaking them. It made sense, probably.  


Soon enough, everything became a challenge.

 

_“Now ~~Asriel~~ Flowey, you can’t just...” _

**_Oh? Couldn’t he?_ **

 

Flowey followed every rule. Flowey broke every rule. And then when that was done, he tried each and every combination, then a second time, then a third. Maybe one of them was the trick to make him feel something real again.

Each attempt made him feel more uneasy, more empty, like the feelings were just a trick, a joke. It wasn’t like he even felt the good stuff to begin with. He remembered what love felt like, almost. He could replicate it. Almost. When he thought about **them** , he thought about it. Almost.

_(He clung to **them** , because **they** could never come back. **They** could never disappoint him. Whether the memories were happy or sad, **they** couldn’t taint them. _

_**They** were gone.)_

Mostly he got angry. He got sad. He got the whole range of negativity. It was something, at least. It made him more than just a flower. More than just an empty vessel. **They** used to call him a crybaby! But look at him now! He… he couldn’t even make himself sad anymore.

(Haha. He sure was tough now… Like **them…** )  


He was bored.

He tried every combination, every scenario, every idea, no matter how stupid (and a whole lot of them were stupid). He tried to find tricks and rituals and patterns, something… anything. But there was nothing, until he was left with his determination, and his boredom, and nothing else but the faintest flicker. He didn’t want that tiny thing, that almost-hope, to flicker out on another repetition, and finally lose whatever it was he was.

So he took a page out of Papyrus’s worthless brother’s book… and did nothing.

He watched the world go by, and didn’t lift a vine to touch it. **_And it was_** **_mind-numbingly BORING._**

 

 **_…_ ** but wasn’t everything?


End file.
